Don't Waste It
by 14hpgirl19
Summary: During a difficult case, Hotch and Ziva must go undercover as a wealthy married couple to bait the UnSub. In the process, one helps the other come to an understanding about something important. TWO-SHOT
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my submission for the CCOAC Crossover Challenge. My character was Ziva David from NCIS and my CM character was Aaron Hotchner. Just to let everyone know, this is NOT my big NCIS/CM crossover that I'm planning. I'm not sure when that's going to be up.**

**The only kind of romantic pairing in this is Tiva, and even that isn't huge.**

**I hope you enjoy the story! Let me know what you thought at the end!**

Ziva David blearily tried to focus on the computer screen in front of her without having her eyes fall shut. It was approaching midnight, and she was still at NCIS headquarters. What was worse was the fact that she hadn't gotten a suitable night's sleep in many days.

The case they were working on was bad. No, it was more than bad. It was _awful. _Six women were dead over a span of six weeks. They were abducted Friday night, and then found dead Monday morning.

NCIS hadn't even been a part of this case at the beginning. It was originally the FBI's case, but when the latest victim turned out to be a Navy Lieutenant, Gibbs demanded to help. And so, Ziva's team was working with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

In only a matter of hours after the most recent victim, Clara Turner, was found, the BAU had taken over NCIS' bullpen with all the evidence from the past five murders. They worked closely with Ziva's team, and in the process, made new friends.

Sadly, now was not the time for that. It was Thursday night now, and Friday was fast approaching. They needed something they could work with, but everything so far had been a dead end.

Rubbing her eyes for the millionth time, Ziva scrolled through Clara Turner's bank records yet again, trying to see if they missed anything. They were desperate for any lead.

"Found anything, Ziva?" Leroy Jethro Gibbs asked, striding into the dark bullpen. Close behind him was the BAU's Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner, or Hotch as he insisted to be called.

"No," she grumbled. "There is nothing in these records to suggest she was anything extraordinary."

"Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way," Hotch mused, staring intently at a bulletin board covered in pictures, note cards, and maps.

"How have we been looking at it?" Ziva asked, standing up to join the men. If she didn't get moving, she would fall asleep right there.

"We've profiled this UnSub to be targeting these victims specifically," Hotch explained. "This kind of killer usually does. However, what if he isn't?"

"Are you saying these are all victims of opportunity?" Gibbs asked skeptically.

"Some of them may be. There were a few connections between the first few victims, but those disappeared. However, the victimology remains true: Attractive women, mid to late thirties, rich husbands, abducted from fancy social events."

"So the UnSub is just trying to satisfy his need to kill?" Ziva questioned.

"Most likely," Hotch answered gravely. "And judging by the torture on previous victims, he's not going to stop anytime soon."

Gibbs sighed as he checked his watch. "It's Friday. This bastard's gonna strike tonight. We need a plan." He and Hotch shared a knowing look, and Ziva began to think they already had something in mind. Gibbs turned to the Israeli woman.

"Go home, Ziva," he said softly. "Try to get a few hours of sleep."

"Maybe I should just stay here," she suggested. "That way I'll be close by."

"That's fine. Just go get some rest. We have a lot of planning to do later."

Nodding, Ziva shut down her computer before saying goodnight to the men. As she made her way to Abby's lab (the forensic scientist would have no problem with letting Ziva use her futon) a feeling of unease began to build in her stomach. Her gut told her this case was not going to go very well.

A few hours later, the two teams stood in the middle of the bullpen. Ducky and Palmer even emerged from autopsy, and Garcia and Abby were standing in the back.

"Okay," Hotch started, looking at everyone surrounding him. "As I'm sure you are all aware, the UnSub is going to strike again tonight, which means we need a plan."

"Unfortunately," Gibbs continued, "We don't have much to go on. The only thing we can do," he sighed somewhat reluctantly, "is send two agents undercover."

That got a mixture of two responses: Surprise from the BAU and acceptance from NCIS. They were more used to undercover ops than the BAU.

"Now," Hotch said, trying to bring everyone's attention back to the matter at hand. "Thanks to Garcia's computer skills, we were able to find a party scheduled for tonight that will appeal to the UnSub. It's all a matter of deciding who is going to do it. After that they will spend the rest of the day finalizing plans and their identities with Garcia and Abby."

"Ziva," Gibbs said. "We decided you would be best for this operation. You've had experience undercover, and you fit the UnSub's type." Ziva nodded, though her stomach clenched tightly at the thought of being a target.

"I'll be the man," DiNozzo said suddenly. Everyone shared knowing looks. It was no secret that the NCIS agent had feeling for Ziva. The BAU had picked it up almost immediately. Morgan and Garcia made a deal with Abby and McGee to try to get the two together once the case was done.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied. "You'll be recognized."

"What? How?"

"Your father," Gibbs answered simply. "It seems some of his 'business associates' will be there tonight."

"Well, then who's going?" DiNozzo asked. He needed to have a talk with whoever would be with Ziva tonight. If she got hurt…

"I think Hotch should do it," Rossi said quietly from where he stood next to Ducky.

"Why me?" Hotch asked irritably.

"I understand what he's saying. You fit the profile of the husbands the victims had," said Morgan. Everyone nodded in agreement.

Hotch sighed. They were right. All of the victims' husbands were in their forties, handsome (not that Hotch thought he was handsome, but he had heard some female agents talking), and rich. Now, Hotch wasn't rich, but that could easily be faked through some computer skills.

"Alright," he said finally. "I'll do it." He didn't miss the scrutinizing look DiNozzo gave him.

"Okay," Gibbs said, ready to get the ball rolling. "You and Ziva should go get some nice clothes for the party. DiNozzo and Morgan, I want you two organizing security. McGee, work with Garcia and Abby on IDs for Hotch and Ziva."

"Reid can help with that," Hotch said quickly. Gibbs nodded.

"Once you're done, come find Rossi, JJ, and I. We'll be getting them into the party as well as making sure other people don't get in the way." He nodded to the group of people standing around him. "Let's go."

Several hours later both teams were back in the bullpen. It was almost time for everyone to get into their positions for the night. Garcia and McGee would be in a surveillance van a few blocks away from the party. Morgan, DiNozzo, Gibbs, and Rossi would be walking the perimeter around it, and JJ would stay behind with Abby and Ducky.

Ziva looked absolutely stunning in a long black dress with thin straps. A shawl sat loosely on her shoulders. JJ, Abby, and Garcia had fun styling her hair into a low bun, leaving a few loose strands framing her face. A pearl necklace hung from her neck, silently letting people know she came from money. Hotch looked handsome in a pressed tux and white dress shirt, and he kept adjusting the thin black tie that hung around his neck. Both of them wore fake, gold wedding rings.

"Ziva," Garcia said suddenly, pushing through the small crowd. She handed the NCIS agent a diamond brooch. "Put this on. It has a camera in it that will allow McGee and I to see what's going on inside. If anyone asks, your lovely husband gave it to you for Christmas."

Morgan snickered at that, but stopped when he saw the glare from Hotch.

"Okay," Gibbs said. "Let's go through it one more time." He gestured for Ziva to start.

"My name is Isabella Montgomery," she rattled off. "I'm married to the very rich James Montgomery, have been for two years. Yes, I am from Israel, but I haven't been home in years. I moved to the States once I met James. No children because neither of us want to bring another person into the world. I have no job because my husband provides for me."

Hotch picked up where she left off. "I'm James Montgomery, head of a massive shipbuilding company overseas. The reason my work is overseas is because my father started it over there, but I prefer to live over here. I met Isabella in London five years ago, proposed after three. In addition to owning my father's company, I'm heir to his fortune. We just moved to DC from Philadelphia, which is why no one knows us."

"Okay," Gibbs nodded. "Good."

"Once you get to the party, walked around a bit," Rossi said. "Mingle with the other guests. Make sure they know who you are and that you have money. With any luck the UnSub will see you and make his move. We'll move in at that point."

"Garcia and I will be watching everything that happens while using facial recognition on the people you see," McGee said. "We can communicate with you two through your concealed earwigs."

"Got it?" Gibbs asked. When they nodded, Gibbs said, "Alright. Let's go."

Ziva began to walk to the elevator, but Hotch stepped over to DiNozzo. He knew the NCIS agent wasn't pleased with the arrangements, and he wanted to try to soothe the other man. Hotch was aware of the friendships that had sprung up in the past week, and he didn't want to ruin them.

"Agent DiNozzo," he said. DiNozzo glanced at him with a small frown.

"Yes?" he asked coolly. Hotch inclined his head to indicate the need for privacy. DiNozzo nodded and walked away from the group.

"I know you're not happy with how this is going down," said Hotch. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to take good care of her. She won't get hurt tonight."

"What?" DiNozzo asked. "I don't know what you're-,"

"Please, DiNozzo," said Hotch, holding up a hand to silence him. "I know you care for Ziva. You don't have to be a profiler to tell. That's why you wanted to go with her tonight. But you're not. I am. But believe me, she won't be harmed."

DiNozzo's face softened slightly. "I believe you. Just don't prove me wrong." He gave Hotch a look that suggested he would not be afraid to hurt him if she was hurt.

Hotch nodded and turned to join Ziva by the elevator. She gave him a curious look when he walked up.

"What was that about?"

He glanced at her. "Nothing." The silver doors slid open, and Hotch gestured for her to enter. Now was not the time to worry about other people's relationships.

It was time to work.


	2. Chapter 2

Hotch and Ziva walked into the party twenty minutes later, and within seconds of entering, were the center of everyone's attention. This was mainly because they were "new" to the area, but they knew this was a good thing. They had a better chance of attracting the UnSub if they were talked about.

The party was being held in a small, expensive restaurant on the first floor of a swanky hotel. The people in attendance were rich businessmen with their attractive, young wives. The undercover agents fit in perfectly.

"Oh, Isabella, your dress looks magnificent!" Cecelia Arsbury trilled. Her husband was talking quietly to Hotch next to them. The Arsburys had latched onto the agents within minutes of them entering the party. Ziva was slowly losing her patience.

"Oh, thank you," she managed as graciously as she could. "It's from London."

"Oh, you've been to London?" Cecelia cried. Ziva winced inwardly.

"Yes, that's where I met James." Seeing an out, she grabbed Hotch's arm and forced his gaze onto her. "Isn't that right?" She silently pleaded for him to get them away.

"Whatever you say," he replied smoothly. Jackson Arsbury chuckled.

"Nice answer. They won't get mad at you that way."

Cecelia began to scold her husband, and Ziva dragged Hotch away stealthily.

"How annoying was she?" Hotch asked as they came to a stop beside a side hallway leading to the restrooms.

"Very," Ziva quipped. "How was your talk with Jackson?"

"He's not the UnSub. The way he talked about his wife proved he has some respect for women."

Ziva frowned. "I thought you said the UnSub is most likely single?"

"We did, but we can't afford to rule anyone out who might fit the profile just because they're married."

Ziva nodded and scanned the room. Dinner hadn't been served just yet, but many people were nibbling at appetizers handed out by waiters. _Someone in this room is the UnSub, _she thought. _But who?_

"Come on," Hotch said, drawing her from her thoughts. "We need to keep talking to people." He held out his arm, and Ziva took it obediently. They rejoined the guests and were stopped after walking a few feet.

"And who would you be?" an attractive, thirty-something woman said, sidling up to them. The way she eyed Ziva told the agent this woman did not take to newcomers very well.

"Isabella Montgomery," she said politely. "This is my husband, James. And you are?"

"Katelyn Crawford," the blonde replied. She plastered an obviously fake smile on her face. "Where are you two from? I don't recall seeing you at previous events."

Ziva could hear McGee and Garcia running the name through their databases.

"Philadelphia," said Hotch. "We decided we wanted a change of scenery."

"I think a city is city," Katelyn said dismissively. "They're all the same." She eyed Hotch closely. "What do you do for work?"

"I'm the head of a shipbuilding company," he answered. "My father used to own it."

Katelyn nodded her approval. "Interesting. What's the name?"

Before Hotch could reply, Ziva cut in. "Are you here with anyone?"

"My date is-,"

"Right here," a deep voice said from behind Ziva. A dark haired man with tan skin wrapped his arm around Katelyn's thin waist. He flashed Ziva a charming smile. "Connor Philips."

"James Montgomery," Hotch said, sticking his hand out. A subtle glance at Ziva told her he picked up on the fact that he was not married.

"Pleasure," Connor said smoothly. "I take it this beautiful creature is your wife?"

Ziva's skin crawled at Connor's tone. "Yes," she said. "I'm Isabella." She tightened her grip on Hotch, causing the Unit Chief to shoot her a slightly worried look. This man was beginning to fit the profile to a T.

They had deduced that the UnSub was a white male in his forties. He would come from money, but something recently may have caused him to lose some of it. Based on the way the first few victims had a few connections, he started off killing women he knew. However, once his specific targets were out of the way, he needed to find another way to satisfy his urges. It was highly unlikely he would be stopping anytime soon.

The amount of time he spent with the victims told them that he liked power over them. It was clear he had no respect for women, and that could have been caused by a previous rejection.

"So Katelyn is your… girlfriend?" Hotch asked Connor.

"Yes," Katelyn answered quickly. Hotch noticed the slightly irritated look that passed Connor's face.

"For how long?" Ziva asked cautiously. She knew they were dancing on a thin line, but they needed some insight.

"A few months," Connor responded.

"_He's lying," _McGee said in Ziva's ear. _"Just a few weeks ago he was seen at a charity ball with another woman. He has a reputation for being a womanizer."_

"How long have you two been married?" Connor continued, oblivious to the agents' quick glances.

"Two years," Hotch said. "We met in London five years ago." In his ear he could hear Garcia typing away furiously, trying to get more information on this guy.

"_We got something," _they heard McGee say. _"One of you excuse yourself so we can tell you."_

Ziva turned to Hotch and said, "I have to run to the ladies room. I'll be back in a moment."

Hotch nodded, and Ziva weaved her way through the circular tables to the side hallway. Bypassing the bathrooms, she slipped into the corner next to a side exit. From this angle, no one could see her.

"What have you got?" she whispered.

"_We have a lot of information on a Mr. Connor Philips," _Garcia said. _"It appears his father was a very wealthy man and the owner of a large business until he went into gambling a few years ago. He lost a lot of money, but Connor has been trying to earn it back. For a while it seemed like he would be able to, but a serious economic no-no occurred in his company earlier this year."_

"_He's been seen with multiple women all over DC," _McGee continued. _"It's clear he doesn't like the thought of settling down."_

"He looks like our UnSub," Ziva murmured.

"_That's what we thought," _Garcia said. _"We checked with Rossi just to be sure, and he definitely thinks it's him."_

"I'll go tell Hotch," Ziva said. "Tell the group outside we've found him."

"_Will do, Mrs. Montgomery," _Garcia replied. Ziva suppressed a small grin as she reentered the party. She quickly found Hotch, Katelyn, and Connor.

"Everything okay?" Hotch asked casually. He slipped his arm around Ziva's waist and pulled her close. He really didn't like the way Connor was eyeing her, and he was determined to keep his promise to DiNozzo.

"Yes, dear, I'm fine." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and breathed in his ear, "It's him."

Hotch shifted his weight slightly to his left side, where his gun was holstered. Any other place risked it being seen, and Ziva couldn't carry one at all. He nodded his head a fraction of an inch, letting her know he heard her. Turning back to the couple before them, Ziva quickly returned to the conversation.

Hotch allowed Ziva to command their attention while he watched Connor. The hungry look in his eye as he watched Ziva didn't sit well with him. It looked like he was ready to devour her.

_What about the girlfriend? _Hotch mused to himself. _How can he abduct a woman with her by his side?_

The answer was given to him later that night. Katelyn became increasingly drunk as the night progressed, partially because Connor was subtly shoving drinks her way. Eventually he called her a cab and sent her home, leaving him all alone to do what he pleased.

"_Gibbs wants to know when you're going to get him to make a move," _Garcia said hesitantly.

Hotch didn't want to leave Ziva alone with this guy, even if she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Clara Turner, the most recent victim, was an accomplished Navy Lieutenant. She had also been capable of taking care of herself, but apparently that wasn't enough.

He just didn't want to see her get hurt. DiNozzo would tear him apart if she did (Not that he was afraid of the NCIS agent.).

However, the night was quickly coming to a close, and if Hotch didn't do something soon, things could get very violent.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned over and kissed Ziva on the cheek. "I'm going to get the car. Meet me up front, okay?"

"Of course. I'll be right there." She squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile, but the profiler in Hotch saw the flicker of fear in her eyes.

He mouthed, "We'll be there," when he was positive Connor couldn't see. She just gave him a curt nod before returning to her conversation. Sighing, Hotch hurried from the room, but stayed close by. He would be damned if something happened to her tonight.

"James sure is a nice guy," Connor was saying. Tearing her eyes from the doorway, Ziva spun around and fixed a smile on her face.

"Yes, he's incredibly sweet. Just one of the things I love about him."

DiNozzo's face swam into her head, but she shoved it away. _Not now…_

Connor murmured his agreement noncommittally, then smirked devilishly. His eyes roamed over Ziva's body, and she wished she could break his legs.

"He seems rather… distant though," Connor said. Ziva frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"He doesn't seem very social."

Ziva shrugged dismissively. "He's a very private person. It took me forever to get him to open up."

Connor chuckled darkly. "Why do women always go for hardasses like him?"

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"They're not all that special anyway," Connor continued, completely ignorant of Ziva's horrified expression. "They're cold and distant and they don't deserve sweet, beautiful women like you."

Ziva took a step back. "Excuse me, but I have to go. My husband is waiting."

"DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE!" Connor yelled suddenly. They were the only people left in the restaurant, which meant she was on her own.

"Connor," Ziva whispered in mock-horror. She knew this would happen. "What is wrong with you?"

The dark haired man flung his hand out and grabbed Ziva's left arm, squeezing it in a death grip. She winced a tiny bit and tried to loosen his grip.

"You're coming with me, bitch," he growled. Ziva really wished she had a gun, but her fists would have to do. Swinging her free hand, her fist collided with Connor's face. He hadn't been expecting it, and her hit caused him to lose his grip momentarily. Wrenching her arm free, Ziva ran full tilt to the door. She skidded to a stop directly outside the restaurant when she noticed something.

No one was there.

There should have been five federal agents standing outside that door with their guns trained on it.

And yet… No one.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Ziva ducked behind a nearby pillar and waited. A moment later, Connor sprinted out and came to a stop like Ziva did. His back was to her, and she took this opportunity to pin his arms behind his back. He let out a strangled cry and stomped on her foot.

Her shoes did little to protect her feet, and against her better judgment she released her hold on him. He spun around and attempted to pick her up. Ziva hastily took a step back and kneed him in the gut. When he was doubled-over, she executed a perfect roundhouse kick and brought him to the ground.

She began to walk to him, then froze when she heard it. The tell-tale sound of a gun clicking.

Connor lifted himself into a sitting position and aimed the gun at her head.

"Don't move," he wheezed. She obediently raised her hands in surrender. He smirked and pulled himself off the floor. "You're a feisty one. Who knew a woman like you could throw a punch?" He rubbed his jaw with his free hand. "But that's alright. I like 'em dangerous."

"So then you'd have no problem with me shooting you right now?" a dark voice said from behind Connor. Turning his head, he was greeted with the sight of Aaron Hotchner pointing a gun directly as his heart. Gibbs, Morgan, Rossi, and DiNozzo filed in behind him.

"What the- James? Where did you get a gun?" Connor asked dumbly.

"My name isn't James," Hotch spat. "It's Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit."

"Connor Philips," said Gibbs, "You're under arrest for the abductions and murders of six innocent women."

"What?" Connor gasped. "How could you catch me?"

Ripping the gun away from him, Ziva pinned his arms behind his back again. "You're not that special," she whispered in his ear, knowing it would piss him off. She was right, and he began to struggle violently. Stepping forward, Rossi slipped behind him and handcuffed him.

It was all over.

Later that night, Ziva sat at her desk gathering up her things. She had already changed back into her cargo pants and long sleeved shirt and was hoping to enjoy the rest of her night with a nice book.

She was about to leave when she noticed someone walking towards the bullpen. In the darkness it was hard to see who it was, but when they stepped into the glow of Gibb's desk lamp, she knew.

"What are you still doing here?" Ziva asked Hotch. "I would have thought you would want to go home to your son." She had heard him telling Abby about his six-year-old son a few days ago.

"I do, I just needed to some last minute things from your Director," the FBI agent explained. He held up his briefcase to prove his point. "I was heading out now."

"I'll walk with you." Hotch nodded, and they fell into step as they approached the elevator.

"Good job tonight," he said conversationally. "By the way."

"Thanks. You too."

The corners of his lips turned up in an almost smile, then returned to a frown. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No," Ziva answered, shaking her head vigorously. "He just stepped on my foot, but it doesn't hurt anymore." She decided not to tell him about the bruise on her arm.

"Good," he murmured. "Otherwise Agent DiNozzo would kill me."

Ziva's head whipped around to face him. "What?"

The silver doors in front of the slid open, and Hotch gestured for her to enter. He finally spoke when they were both inside.

"I promised him earlier today that you would not get hurt under my watch," he explained. Ziva frowned.

"I don't need protecting."

"I know. You definitely proved that tonight. DiNozzo just needed some reassurance because he wasn't going to be with you."

"Why would he need that?" she asked slowly. Hotch let out a dry chuckle.

"You can stop pretending, Ziva, everyone knows you two love each other."

She bit her lip before saying, "Rule Number Twelve."

"I'm sorry?" he asked, giving her a confused look.

"Gibbs has a list of rules, and Number Twelve is Never Date a Coworker," Ziva answered with a hint of sadness. Hotch sighed.

"I think he'd be okay if you two broke that."

She spun around to look at him. "How do you know? You're a Unit Chief. You of all people should be supportive of the rules."

Hotch nodded. "I know. But I also lost the one person I love because of this job. I don't think you should waste _your _love just because of a stupid rule, especially if that person is still around."

Ziva's eyes softened. "She left?"

Hotch looked away, and Ziva saw a side of him he rarely showed to anyone. She felt a bit touched.

"That and she… passed away."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He fixed his gaze back on her again. "Don't lose it, Ziva. You'll regret it if you do."

The elevator doors slid open, and Hotch strode out. Ziva regained her composure and rushed after him.

"How do you know?" she called.

"How do I know what?" he asked, stopping a few feet away.

"That he loves me?" she asked breathlessly. Hotch turned his head a bit so she could see the grin on his face.

"I'm a profiler." He gave her a little wave and said, "I enjoyed working with you this week."

Ziva smiled. "Same here." Once he was out of sight, she pulled out her cell phone and typed out a familiar number.

"Tony? Are you busy tonight?"


End file.
